


Drabbles

by emeraldwitch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 00:33:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17673023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldwitch/pseuds/emeraldwitch
Summary: I'm moving my works from tumblr; and these are my random drabbles. Chapter titles will include the character and pairing if applicable. These were written over a long period and vary in quality. They're being posted here for archival purposes.





	1. Author Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A blank area to add notes as necessary.

Really, I'm adding this chapter to assist the formatting and such in later chapters. 

A reminder: this is an archive for some of my more nonsensical drabbles which are all quite lengthy.


	2. Church of Chuck (Claire x Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Church of Chuck
> 
> Pairing: reader x Claire
> 
> Warnings: crack, bad writing, pointless prompt fill
> 
> Notes: Fill for prompt reblogged by @spnfanficpond. You recently told your family that you’re an atheist. In their desperate attempt to get you to believe in God again, they ask a priest for help. The priest they went to accidentally summons God himself, who is now trying to convince you he exists.

Telling them was a mistake; but in the heat of the moment it had seemed right. They were getting ridiculous and when they insulted your girlfriend to her face… Well you exploded. In return your parents had called her mother. What they didn’t realize was that her mother believed in God about as much as you did. Not at all.

A few days later things seemed to have settled down, until there was a knock on the front door and in came two priests.

“I’m Father Shaw,” the shorter one said. “And this is Father Gowan.”

“Okay?” You asked, unsure of what they wanted from you.

“Your girlfriend’s mother thought we might be able to help you see the light,” Father Gowan explained.

“Oh for fucks sake!”

You didn’t feel that you had a choice but to listen to their spiel, so you led them into the living room and sat down. This was going to be a long afternoon. You were just glad that Claire was stuck dealing with it to, since her mother called them.

Before they could begin there was another knock on the door. When you opened it, there were two men. One wore a trenchcoat and the other looked like someone’s dad. “Sorry we’re late, parking was a nightmare.”

“Well, I live in a city. You didn’t have to come.” They followed you into the living room to join Claire and the priests.

“So, this is God,” Father Shaw said, gesturing to dad-guy. “But we call him Chuck.”

“You’re telling me that you’re on a first name basis with God?”

“It’s a long story,” Father Gowan told you.

“He literally looks like someone’s dad.”

“Well, I’m technically everyone’s dad,” Chuck responded.

You didn’t bother to answer him. Obviously this was Claire’s idea of a joke. You should have known when her mother got involved that there would be shenanigans. Now that you really looked at the priests, you recognized them from photos on Jody’s mantle. They were Claire’s uncles.

“Claire, why are your uncles trying to convince me that this random guy is God?”

“Because he is.”

You gawked at her. This was getting ridiculous. “There is no way.”

“I’m afraid it’s true,” Chuck interrupted. He proceeded to tell you random facts about your life like the time you broke your arm when you were seven, or how you and Claire met.

“Medical records and Facebook. Not rocket science.” You brushed him off.

He tried again. Suddenly holding a full coffee mug that you’d never seen before.

“Close up magic. Next?”

“I didn’t want to do this…” He crossed the room and placed his fingers to your temple. There was a rush of energy and you saw your life. Everything from your birth to this moment in a matter of seconds.

“Okay… Maybe you’re God.” You didn’t have a better explanation for what had happened. “But if you are, what the hell have you let happen down here?”

“And there it is, the 64 million dollar question,” Father Shaw… Well, Dean, said.

This was going to be an even longer afternoon than you’d expected.


	3. Retired (Dean Winchester)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A diner AU featuring Dean and Donna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Retired
> 
> Pairing: None
> 
> Warnings: None
> 
> Notes: If you know me you know how much I love a disgruntled diner owner. That’s Dean this time around. The opening scene is basically from Gilmore Girls, but if you’ve never seen it, you’d never know.

“Go change!” Dean demanded almost before the door had shut behind you.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You knew exactly what was wrong with it; but you didn’t want to work for Dean, or live with Dean, or in any way interact with Dean.

“You’re wearing leggings, for one. Which are not appropriate work attire. Secondly, your shirt is too low; and third, Megadeth sucks.”

You turned on your heel and walked back across the street. You were never sure which came first, Mary’s or the house in which you lived. You never cared enough to ask.

“What are you wearing?” Dean looked up from refilling Donna’s coffee. She was a sheriff the next town over, and she made it a point to stop in for coffee on her way to work.

“I thought this was the uniform,” you smirked back at him. You were wearing jeans, a faded Thin Lizzy t-shirt, and a plaid button up over top.

Donna tried to hide her smile behind her coffee, but Dean saw. “Don’t encourage her!”

You stepped behind the counter and tied on your apron, preparing for another long day of serving coffee and pastries until noon. After lunch, things would die down some. “See ya this evening, Dean. Maybe cut the girl a break?”

“Yeah, Dean. Cut me a break,” you said from where you were leaning at the opposite end of the counter. Jody, one of Dean’s friends, had saved you from the demon that killed your family; and since she already had a house full of disgruntled girls, she sent you to Dean with the hopes you’d have a normal life.

Things continued at their usual pace for much of the day. People came, they ate, Dean yelled, it was a typical day. This included Donna coming back in around 7 that evening for a quick dinner on her way home.

Nothing was out of the ordinary until almost closing time, when the door burst open and someone shouted, “Winchester!”

You had never seen Dean move that fast. Before you had time to register what was happening, he had grabbed the shotgun he kept under the counter and racked it. “Who’s asking?”

“Just your friendly neighborhood vampire,” the man said, showing his fangs. “Seems you killed my girl a few years back, been looking for ya.”

“That’s nice, but I don’t care,” Dean said, levelling the shotgun and firing.

He stepped around the counter and locked the front door. Then he turned to you. “About that…”

“You’re a hunter?” Suddenly the constant influx of rowdy men and cops made sense. So did his bad attitude, now that you thought about it.

“Retired,” he explained. “Mostly.”

“You can’t retire from the life, Deano,” Donna spoke up for the first time.

“You too?” You asked in disbelief.

“Me too. Here, let’s help him clean this up.” Donna pushed away from the table and looked at Dean expectantly. “Mop?”

“Oh, right,” he said, turning back toward the storeroom.


	4. Sam Winchester x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was the first thing I'd written in almost six months and it is objectively dreadful and disjointed; but it's going in here purely so that I can look back and see how much I've improved. Feel free to ignore this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Hey, hey, don’t look at them. Look at me, okay? Just keep looking at me. It’ll be over soon. Keep looking at me. C’mon, focus on me.”
> 
> Warnings for bad writing and continuity issues. I haven’t written anything in at least six months… maybe longer.

I stood up from behind the bar and surveyed the carnage that had been unleashed. I was amazed that I’d survived; but I had… This time. It would start over before too long, and I didn’t know if I’d survive it again. 

“What the hell happened?” 

My attention was immediately focused on the door. This hadn’t happened before. In fact, Sam was the last person I expected to see here. “I have no idea, Sammy… but I’m done with it.” 

“What do you mean?” Apparently all his years as Dean’s shotgun rider hadn’t taught him to pick up on sarcasm after all. 

“The Boondock Saints routine that I’ve lived through at least fifteen times.” I threw up my hands and sighed. The next round should have started by now. I wasn’t entirely sure what was causing it; but I suspected it had something to do with the witch community. They weren’t my biggest fans after I took up with the Winchesters and stopped practicing magic. 

“It’s a Djinn.” 

“No, I haven’t been drinking gin, Sam. You know I only drink whiskey.” I rolled my eyes at him. 

“I said the same thing to Dean the first time we came up against one. It’s a genie. They usually feed on positive feelings; but this is another one of the fear-eating bastards.” His explanation certainly made me feel warm and fuzzy. 

“So… how do we off it?” I wasn’t in the mood to keep playing Russian Roulette with my own imagination, as I now knew it to be. 

“Dean’s working on it. Typically a stake dipped in lamb’s blood… He just has to find the asshole.” 

“And you’re…?” 

“Tripping on African Dream Root because otherwise you’d freak out and boil from the inside being trapped in dreamland.” 

“My hero.” It was a deadpan as anything I’d ever said. 

It was a seamless transition back into the waking world. Sam was seated next to me when I awoke and seemed more concerned than I was about my current condition. It felt as if I’d had a fever break, nothing I couldn’t handle. 

“Alright, yahoos… Back to the bunker.” 

___________________

“Hey… Hey! Don’t look at them.” By the time I entered the bunker, I knew something was wrong. The boys had gone ahead in the Impala while I stopped for supplies. I didn’t know what Dean was talking about; but it didn’t sound good… and they’d never left the door open. It took them six months to even give me a key.

I entered as quietly as I possibly could, placing the bags I’d been holding on the counter. I pulled my pistol from the waistband of my jeans and slowly made my way to the library. It was empty. 

My next check was the ‘dungeon’ as the boys called it. I walked as quietly as I could in boots. When I reached the shelves, they were already pulled open to reveal the Devil’s Trap and I could hear Sam’s distinctive ‘I won’t scream’ noises. Dean, however, was threatening up a storm. 

“If you sons of bitches don’t let my brother go, I swear to god, I’ll kill ya!” 

“Tsk tsk, Dean. You can’t kill me.” 

I knew that voice. I thought she was dead; but I was clearly very wrong. Abbadon was alive and had taken over the dungeon with her army of idiot demons. I glanced down and realized someone had broken the Devil’s Trap that usually kept demons in. I couldn’t imagine who would have done that… another witch? I’d worry about it later. 

“Oh, darling! Do come in.” I hadn’t moved or made a sound; but she knew. Of course she knew. 

“What are you doing you demonic whore?”

“Is that any way to talk to the Queen of Hell?” She snarled through blood red lips. “Chain her here in the center.” 

“Excuse the fuck out of me?” I would not be chained in my own dungeon. Not if I could help it. I hadn’t practiced in nearly two years; but that didn’t diminish the power of my exorcism spell. Every demon, save Abbadon, in the room was thrown from the vessels and presumably back to hell. 

“Nice magic trick, little lady,” she laughed. It wasn’t an amused sound and it drove chills down my spine. “You’re still going to watch me torture your brothers nice and slow… even if I can’t get you in these shackles.” She gestured toward the doors, which slammed shut. 

“You think I care?” I refused to plead with a demon, so I hoped reverse psychology would work. She obviously didn’t know everything about us. 

“Oh, you care, baby doll.” Before she had a chance to turn around; Dean had managed to pick the lock on his shackles.

“Hey, bitch!” She turned, unbothered, to face him and was met with a machete to the throat. I didn’t even want to know where he’d had that stashed. It didn’t kill her; but we knew that it wouldn’t. Instead he picked up her severed head and threw it into a box with all manner of warding on it. Her body would go into a separate box until we could figure out how to kill her permanently. 

While Dean was handling her lock up, I began unchaining Sam. As soon as his feet hit the floor, he slid down the wall staring blankly ahead. “Hey, Sammy? Sam?” I waved my hand in front of his face but received no response. “Sam, honey?” It was a good thing Dean had left the room. We hadn’t shared this information with him yet, unsure how he’d handle it since I was still technically a witch.

“No, leave her alone. Stop!” He never blinked, but he spoke as if pleading with an unseen force. “Jessica!” 

“Sam, baby… It’s been ten years,” I said, hoping to reason him out of his waking nightmare. 

“Stop! Dammit, stop it!” 

Clearly that hadn’t worked. I sat down on the concrete next to him and pulled him over so that he was laying across my lap. “Hey. Hey! Don’t look at them. Look at me.” 

Dean returned, having heard Sam’s shouting. “What’s going on?” 

“I have no idea. What did she do to him? I wasn’t that far behind you guys.” I snapped at Dean, never looking up from Sam who was now shaking in my lap. 

“Sammy came in first. By the time I got down here he was already chained to the wall. There’s no telling what that bitch did to him.” 

“Maybe figure it the fuck out?” I didn’t intend to be so harsh with him; but I couldn’t help Sam if I didn’t know what had happened. Dean looked down and realized that there was blood on the white shirt I wore under the Hunter Issued plaid. 

“Some kind of venom, I’d guess. Let me check the lore. I’ll be back.” Usually Dean made me or Sam do all the reading; but I was pinned under Sam’s Gigantor frame and there was no way I was getting up until he snapped out of whatever delusion Abbadon had thrust upon him. 

“No! No, don’t. She had nothing to do with this!” Tears streamed down Sam’s face as he continued to shout at unseen enemies. 

I managed to turn him onto his back so that he was looking almost directly into my eyes. “Hey. It’s gonna be okay. It’ll be over soon. Just keep looking at me.” I spoke softly and his eyes seemed to focus. “That’s it, Sammy. Keep looking at me. I’m right here.” I ran my fingers through his hair as best I could with the position he was in. “Come back to me, honey. It’s all okay.” 

It felt like I’d been sitting on the hard floor for hours when Dean finally got back. “Some kind of fairy dust, if I’m reading it right.”

“I’m sorry, what?” If I could have gotten up, I’d have smacked him. Faeries weren’t exactly the friendliest creatures, but they usually kept to themselves. 

“Well… More of an imp? I don’t know… Some kind of tiny, magical assclown. It’ll wear off, just make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.” 

“Thanks, Dean… That was so helpful.” I rolled my eyes and focused my attention back on Sam. “Go see if there’s anything to speed it up. We’re still trying to keep this wall intact; and I don’t know what it’s gonna dredge up next!” 

Surprisingly, Dean didn’t have a smart remark for me. He turned and headed back for the library without another word. I knew he was worried about Sam scratching at the wall; but he must have been really concerned not to throw a jab my way before he left. 

Sam had stopped crying and was now simply shaking lightly and making low whimpering noises as if he was in pain. “What is it, baby?” I asked, leaning closer. “Shhh. Focus on me. Just a little longer.” 

“Wha…” This was the first intelligent response I’d gotten from him in two hours. “What happened?” 

“Abbadon dosed you with some kind of venom… or fairy dust if you ask your brother; but don’t. He sucks at this research gig.” 

“How long was I out?” His voice was hoarse but he was making sense and had stopped shaking, now just lying across my lap with his face nearly buried in my stomach. I knew he was trying to hide his tear stained face from me. 

“Before I got back? I don’t know. It’s been two hours since Dean locked the bitch up… in pieces. I’ve been down here with you that whole time.” 

“What did I say?” He sounded embarrassed and more than a little scared. 

“Well, first it was Jessica, then Madison, then Sarah… and finally me. I’m guessing it was forcing you to relive all of our deaths.” 

“Yeah… I’m… sorry.” 

“Don’t be, Sammy.” I tried to be reassuring. It didn’t bother me to hear him upset over other women. I was much more concerned that if it had gone on any longer, it would have moved from past loves to his time in the cage. “I’m just glad you’re coming out of it. Can you stand up?” 

“I think so?” He moved slowly but made it to his feet, leaning on me for help. 

“Let’s get to bed. It’s been a long, very bloody night; and we’ve probably got some explaining to do in the morning.” I helped him lean against some of the stationary shelves as I shoved the doors shut.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s kinda hard to hide anything from Dean when you’re having a mental break in my lap… He definitely knows.” 

“Oh god…” Sam slumped further down the metal shelves. “Yeah, let’s get to bed before he starts up.”


	5. My Best Girl (Charlie x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one with Charlie pining over a short-tempered unnamed female hunter.

“I seem to have lost something,” Charlie announced, dragging herself into the kitchen.

“What?” Dean asked, immediately concerned that it was the Book of the Damned.

“My will to live,” she told him, flopping into a chair as Sam handed her a cup of coffee.

“Oh thank God, I thought it was something important!”

Sam slapped him on the shoulder. “She still hasn’t answered you?”

“Nope. It’s been two days!” She put her head in her hands. “Are you sure?”

“Cas was pretty sure after being in her head,” Dean affirmed. “Give the girl time, she just got home from a hunt and she’s staying with Jody. She probably spent the last eight hours arguing with Claire about the best way to kill a tulpa.”

Charlie couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of her crush in a heated debate with one of their best female hunters. The worst part was knowing that Claire definitely lost. She wondered what she was getting herself into with the stubborn young hunter.

She didn’t have long to think about it when the bunker’s door was flung open by a fuming woman wearing jeans and the customary plaid overshirt.

“I’m done! I can’t fucking take that little know it all any longer! My daddy’s an angel vessel. Well bitch, my daddy was eaten by a rugaru but that don’t make me an expert!”

Dean tried to hide his laugh behind his coffee cup. They’d make up soon enough, and because of this he never took offense to her venting about Claire.

“Do I want to know?” Sam asked cautiously.

“She thinks she knows everything about angels and demons just because Cas took up residence in her dad,” she explained vaguely. “It’s fine, I just had to get away from her because you know she doesn’t stop once she starts.”

“So are you hanging out here?” Charlie asked, trying not to sound eager.

“Probably. I was planning to talk Dean into a sparring match, but now that I know my best girl is here…”

Charlie nearly choked on her coffee, which Sam used as a distraction to drag Dean out of the room.

“Your who?” Charlie asked when she regained her composure.

“My best girl.” She pulled a chair away from the table and flipped it around so her legs straddled the back. She had always been Sam’s mini-me, ever since she took up with the boys after her father’s death. “I mean, cut the shit… I know it, you know it, hell Rocky and Bullwinkle in there know it. See how conspicuously absent they are?”

“You never said anything?” Charlie wrapped her hands tighter around her mug, not wanting to look up. “I always thought you were into Sam until Cas was in your head that time.”

“One, I’m gonna kill that fluffy fucker for playing in my brain pan; and two, I love Sam but he definitely isn’t my type. Too broad through the shoulders and too flat in the chest.”

“In his defense, he was kicking out a demon; and you’re almost as broad shouldered as Sam?”

It was true. Sam’s protegee did favor him when it came to looks. It wasn’t that she was masculine; but like Sam, she was tall and broad shouldered. Dean liked to give her hell for, as he put it, being built like a brick shithouse. He had eaten those words on many an occasion when she had out-muscled a monster and saved his ass.

“What do you think the physical attraction is?” She asked, staring straight into Charlie’s eyes. “You’re tiny and precious.”

She laughed at Charlie’s indignation. “I fought Leviathan and won!”

“I know, your highness… but you’re still precious.”

“Are you two gonna kiss or what?” Dean asked, sauntering in to refill his coffee. “I can’t take any more lesbian tension. Between y'all and Claire’s girl of the month, I’m about to lose my mind.”

“Shit, that’s been gone!” She told Dean, standing up from her backward chair. “But hell yeah we’re gonna kiss.” She leaned over and gently placed her mouth over Charlie’s. “Like I said, I’m hanging out with my best girl today.”

Charlie almost missed it when Dean mouthed “told you so” over the other woman’s shoulder. Almost.


	6. Sam Winchester (Gen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Sam gets stabbed, again. It's crack.

“What are you doing, Sammy?” Dean asked, obviously concerned. “Why are you on the floor?”

“I have depression. It’s to be expected whe someone knocks down your soul wall. Also I’ve been stabbed six times. Call Cas and get Mom the hell out of here before Ketch realizes she’s here.”

“I’m gonna kill that sonuvabitch!” Dean tried to put pressure on Sam’s wounds but they were too spread apart.

“Dammit, Dean!” Sam barely had the energy to yell, but it didn’t stop him from gritting his teeth and shoving his brother away from him. “Go get Mom!”

Their yelling had drawn you out of your room where you’d been hiding from Arthur Ketch. You saw Dean run past you toward the garage, and you immediately went the opposite direction to help Sam.

“What are you doing?” He shouted as you slid to a stop on your knees in front of him.

“Helping you, Sam. I can’t lose another brother!”

“Just get out of here. Ketch thinks I’m going to bleed out here, he won’t come back for me.”

“What’s going on?” You and Sam both looked up at the sound of a British accent.

“Do you have fucking amnesia?” Sam asked incredulously. “You stabbed me!”

“I most certainly did not!” Ketch insisted, kneeling next to you. “Stop squirming, Sam! You’re losing more blood this way!”

“I wouldn’t be losing any blood if you hadn’t stabbed me!” Sam shouted, trying to shuffle away.

“I wouldn’t be field dressing your wounds if I’d stabbed you; now hold still!”

“Sam, he’s either had a stroke or that wasn’t him,” you told Sam as Ketch essentially duct taped large pieces of gauze tightly over the stab wounds. You turned to Ketch. “Stay with him until I get back. If anything happens to him, they will never find your remains. The resurrection charm won’t save you either!”

Ketch actually looked somewhat frightened as you skidded down the hallway toward the garage to catch Dean and Mary.

Halfway there you ran head first into Donna Hanscum. “What are you…?” You thought Donna was still in Minnesota.

“Shhh. Dean called me,” she explained. It would have made sense. You’d been hunting a family of ghouls, the worst you’d ever encountered; and it would make sense to call in backup; but when she held up her hand to stop you, she wasn’t wearing her wedding band. Donna never took it off, even when she and Doug were considering divorce.

“How’s Doug?” You asked casually.

“Huh?” It knew it had blown it, but still tried to recover. “He’s fine. Great, dontcha know?”

“Uh huh.” You looked into its eyes. They were shimmering gold and you immediately ducked before it could knock you across the room. This wasn’t just a shifter like you’d thought. It was the daddy of all shifters, Asmodeus.

You threw your angel blade and hit him square in the throat. It didn’t kill him, but it surprised him enough for you to scuttle around him. You reached the garage in record time and found Dean and Mary talking to Jody and Claire next to a Sioux Falls Sheriff’s Department pickup.

“Guys, I’m happy for this reunion and all; but uhm… There’s a demon prince headed this way.” You tried to catch your breath as Claire and Dean took off toward the interior of the bunker. “Ketch didn’t do it!” You shouted at their backs.

When you made it back to the library with Jody and Mary, Dean and Claire were waiting. “He’s not here now.” Claire said.

“Nice of the old bookworms to ward against the oldest demons,” Dean huffed sarcastically. He was supervising as Ketch sewed Sam’s wounds shut, now that they knew the immediate danger had passed.

Jody sat down next to Sam without a word. Mary simply said, “now that we know he can get in, we need to find a way to kill him.”

“What’s up, dudes?” Gabriel asked, suddenly at the top of the stairs and no longer the bleeding mess he had been.

“We’re gonna need your help,” you told him.


End file.
